Insomniac's Symphony
by Crow Corleone
Summary: Music, to me, has always been a form of meditation. oneshot


Insomniac's Symphony

By Crow Corleone

Music, to me, has always been a form of meditation.

Ahhh. . . a new identity from my old one. I am certainly happy to start from scratch and instead of write crappy, long, and complicated stuff, I'll just write crappy stuff. (I hope I'm kidding.) I most certainly do not own Teen Titans.

By the way, this is NOT A ROB/RAE romance fic.

Raven looked at the digital clock on the dresser next to her bed. 3:30 AM. The numbers glowed sadistically and she swore. She closed her eyes for the fifth time and placed her head back on the pillow, waiting to fall into the clutches of sleep. After fifteen minutes of waiting, nothing happened. She sighed and sat up, brushing a stray strand of violet hair from her face. This was going to be a long night. Giving a soft groan, she headed to her closet and picked up a clean cloak, fastening it around her neck, then pulled the hood up over her head so it shadowed her face.

At times like this, when she couldn't get to sleep, she would always meditate. However, a lone voice in her mind echoed, "Music . . ." Normally, rationality would tell her to just sit down and chant, but tonight . . . tonight, the colors were richer, the air was sweeter, and something in her mind was pulsing, pounding against her head like the steady, rhythmic beating of a drum. Finally, she gave in.

_Swisshhhhh_

The door opened, and her ashen, pale figure stepped out.

Her footsteps echoed with sharp taps as she briskly walked down the hall and reached her goal; a painting on the wall. She held up her hand to the painting and quietly chanted, "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos." With the sound of whirring gears came a sharp click, and then the painting slid to the left of it's former place and the once covered spot on the wall became a door.A black tendril of magic stretched itself underneath of the door and probed around inside of the room.

A chest.

A cloak.

A stack of books.

A piano.

Her lips slightly curved upwards as she closed her eyes in concentration, teleporting the item to the roof.

Once the deed was done, she replaced the painting and crept back to her room, grabbed a black case, then silently padded up to the roof. Once there, she opened the black case and pulled out a freshly polished Stradivarius violin and bow and placed them on the ground next to a grand piano. Sitting down cross-legged, she closed her eyes and levitated herself so she was slightly above the rooftop, then held her arms out, each one pointing to a different instrument.

When she opened her eyes, they were glowing grey.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

The black energy was wispy at first, but soon it became bolder, and stretched out towards the two instruments. A tendril picked up the violin and bow, and began to move the bow across the violin's strings, causing it to emit a sweet, pure note before another two tendrils stretched and began a solemn tune on the piano. The violin accompanied it, until the interwoven tunes could be recognized as Frederic Chopin's Nocturne in C minor.

She sat there, calmly repeating the chant under her breath. At this moment, she was at her core, awakening a more pure self being. Her magic continued to play, but as it did, her soul rose out of her body in its spectral form. Her soul began to fly, and she looked down at the serenity and tranquility of the city. Oh, how this illusion of peace was so beautiful.

The music stopped ringing in her ears, and she could feel her soul speeding back to her mass. With an abrupt jolt, she returned to her body, and stretched out her magic in time to catch the falling violin and bow. Fixing her face in a glare, she turned around to see who had interrupted her relaxed state. A questioning eyebrow rose as she looked into the empty voids of Robin's mask.

"Are you okay? You wouldn't answer me."

"I was perfectly fine," she coldly replied.

His mask fell. "Oh . . . then I-I'll be in the training room, okay?"

"No problem."

She listened for the echoes of the metal on metal as he went down the stairs. Finally, after waiting a few minutes, she stretched one tendril of energy out to the piano and pulled it across the keys, starting from the lowest and ending at the highest.

She teleported the piano back to the room, and lovingly placed the violin and bow back in the black case. When she made it back to her room, she lay down on her bed and looked at the clock. 4:00 AM. Sighing, she fell asleep, and when nobody was looking, she smiled.

( ( End ) )

I know it was short, but I liked it. . . even though I bet it sucks.


End file.
